The lines of self-defence.
The wounded forms appear:
the loss, the full extent;
and simple kindness here,
the solitude of strength.
You walk into my room.
You sit there at my desk,
Begin your letter to
The one who’s coming next.
KITCHEN TABLE
The same useless thoughts arise
but no one claims them –
Loneliness seizes the frame
and shakes away hope
but no one is hopeless
no one is lonely –
The intricate preparations
for the next moment
direct you
to read this now –
Surrendered to the One
who placed me here
I sit at the very table
where these songs began
some forty years ago –
busy as a bee
in the solitude
– Hydra, 1999
GRAVITY
I never tried to see your face,
Nor did I want to know
The details of some lower place
Where I would have to go.
But love is strong as gravity,
And everyone must fall.
At first it’s from the apple tree,
And then the western wall.
At first it’s from the apple tree,
And then the western wall.
And then from you and then from me
And then from one and all
THE SUN
I’ve been to the sun
It’s nothing special
A place of violence
Much like our own
The sun said
I am an open book
Be patient
I love the way
The sun speaks
It is so calm and honest
Except when seized
By its own misfortunes
You will find
That everything happens
The same way
Here and there
The solar winds
Are something else
No one masters them
No one really
Navigates them
You survive them
Or you are never
Heard from again
Go LITTLE BOOK
Go little book
And hide
And be ashamed
Of your irrelevance
A fluke
Has made you prominent
You were meant
To be discovered
Later
When there are no more
Floods and earthquakes
And holy wars
Go little book
And stop disgracing me
There are serious men
And women in my life
And you have given them
The upper hand
Hide behind
A window
O my dear lighthearted
And transparent
Book
Or crush yourself
Beneath a defeat
But hide
Hide quickly now
And let me hear from you
In our secret code
Which resembles
A bad cough
That dark rattle
Which ignores
The challenges of love
The crystals of perfection
O speak to me
From places
You will find
Go little book
Invite me there
HOSPITALITY
drinking cognac
with the old man –
his exquisite hospitality
in the shack by the river –
that is, no hospitality
just emptying the bottle into my glass
and filling my plate
and falling asleep
when it was time to go
THE CENTRE
When I am at the centre
of my unrequited love
I cannot hold it as an object
It has no sharp edges
to torture anyone
I breathe the fragrance
of the longing
and the longing
has no proprietor
“O my love” embraces
the great wide sky
as the night picks through
the constellations
lifting necklace
after dripping necklace
for the delight
of Leonard’s true beloved
“0 my love” cries out
from every pore of snow
and the forest answers
from a great height:
“O my love”
And one heart appears
and one heart dissolves
and they clasp in the place
where I am held up
in the storm
And I walk to you
on the waves of desire
walk across the distance
with something new to tell you
about your beauty
your good legs
and your relentless absence
YOUR RELENTLESS APPETITE FOR NEW PERSPECTIVES
When You wanted
to see her
in a different light
You placed her
in my arms
When You wanted
to vanish
in a sigh of relief
You drew down her lips
to mine
O Nameless Subject
of all activity
You have given me a song
for my ghostly life
How deep is Your longing
for Yourself
how sublimely overlooked
We kneel in gratitude
as the movements in love
disperse our sweet intentions
across the fictions
of Companionship –
two of the creatures
which You named Me
BETTER TO BE LOST
It is better when I’m lost
and the towns flow by
like television
and you want to be an artist
and draw the waitress’s lips
It is better when I wake up
alone in the cold sauna
and get to know the wood again
the red wood, the cedar
the old oaken bucket
the old rugged cross
O my children it is better
to be lost when you are
this poisoned father
at the woman’s banquet of love
and I did not take you
to hunt the bear
or spear the fish
I did not spirit you away
from the intrigue
to the forest green
where I slept with
a person named Sahara
beside The Devil’s River
and I knew how to put up
a tent in the wind
It is better to be lost
to fall asleep according
to the terrors of CNN
dead drunk on red wine
digging for the sunlight
in the German documentary
that never turns into English
It is better to be the blood
inside my own hand
with its own sweet life
its innocent joyous burden
of service
O thank you dear sweet
loyal blood of my hand
I promise never to raise you
again in anger
INSIDE OUR LOVE
I want to love you now
I want to love you then
I want to love you never
And then begin again
All the tassels of my belt
Go flying in the sky
When you bend down to laugh at me
From your place on high
I want to be the fool
The one you send away
After you have used him up
Every second day
I want to be the rose
You beckon with a yawn
Limping on a thorny crutch
Across the burning lawn
See what you have done to me
As if you give a shit
I used to live behind a line
But now I’m over it
I won’t come back to say goodbye
I’ll never leave your side
Until I am the other man
And you are someone’s bride
Sit down on my memory
When you are in pain
When you are in pleasure
Sit down on it again
Thank you for your courtesy
And for your drunken kiss
I’m drunker than you’ll ever be
I hate to tell you this
And every night’s cemented tight
Until you strike and rise
Against me like a tidal flood
To crack the wall of lies
And push me down forever
To places where I find
The fossils of my brotherhood
The smooth ones and the spined
And then a holy moment comes
With crisp sobriety:
I see that we are meant for chains
Though every atom’s free
I see that we are meant for chains
Tho’ every atom’s free
And even beauty meets an edge
As one can plainly see
Then summer has your golden hair
And autumn has your ghost
And we are at a juicy feast
Where no one is the host
Then we begin to form again
It takes a little while
I circle round your privacy
For many a lonesome mile
HALF THE WORLD
Every
